


Back to the Past

by jilliancares



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Lance (Voltron), M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Time Travel, Top Keith (Voltron), Virginity, of the anal kind, what i'm saying here is lance bottoms for the first time, with future keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 10:24:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13479537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jilliancares/pseuds/jilliancares
Summary: Lance accidentally winds up a couple years in the future, where Future Keith shows him that he doesn't always like being the one in control.





	Back to the Past

**Author's Note:**

> i finished this this morning before school and didn't have time to post it but please enjoy i had fun writing it!!! i love bottom lance my dudes

It wasn’t everyday you got sent a few years into the future, but Lance had learned by now to take pretty much everything that came at him in stride. After all, once you’d discovered magical robot lions and alternate realities were real, pretty much anything felt possible — including accidentally ending up in the future.

One moment, he’d been walking into the lab, saying, “Hey Pidge,” around the hardened, sugary kind of goo-vention Hunk had created, and the next he’d been _here_. He figured Pidge had been messing with something she shouldn’t have been and it was her fault that he was here now, but he also figured she’d be able to fix whatever she’d managed to mess up eventually, so he wasn’t too worried.

“What the hell?” said Keith, sitting in his bed. Except, it wasn’t _Keith_  Keith. And by that Lance meant he looked different, maybe a year or two older.

“I think Pidge just messed with the space-time continuum, but hey, what’s up?” Lance shot him a pair of finger guns and Keith continued to gape. (Also, _side note_ , future Keith was HOT. Like, not to say that current Keith wasn’t hot — they’d been dating for a few months now actually, so like, Lance told him that all the time — but Keith had only gotten hotter in however much time had passed. Damn.)

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Future Keith said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Don’t tell me you aren’t happy to see me!” Lance exclaimed, throwing his arms out wide with a grin. “I know you love the sight of me. Er — we are still dating, right?”

Keith laughed, something that wasn’t always very easy to do and made Lance grin in response. “We are,” he said. “It’s kind of nice that you’re here, actually, as you — future you, I guess — is away on a mission right now.”

“Solo-mission? Awesome,” Lance sighed, and then he threw himself onto Keith’s bed, something that always made Keith blush bright red and scramble to sit up straight. Lance looked at him expectantly, grin wide and cocky, except that… Well, it didn’t happen. Keith just raised an eyebrow at Lance.

See, Lance and Keith had had sex before, _duh_. They actually kind of did it a lot. They were young and defenders of the galaxy and had more stamina than most people, Lance was sure, because they went at it like rabbits.

They did it fast and hurried and pressed against walls, did it quietly in closets and panting into each other’s mouths, did it slow under their bed sheets, taking all the time in the world. But Lance could always make Keith blush. He could look at him the right way, touch him in the right place, say the right words into his ear, and he’d be bright red and pretending not to be. Lance loved it, love seeing Keith red and flustered and chuckling down at him, amping it all up.

But this Keith — some distance into the future, Keith — wasn’t reacting quite like his Keith. He would’ve been blushing by now, would’ve been trying to figure out without saying anything if Lance had jumped into his bed just to be in his bed or to have sex. This Keith wasn’t doing that. He was staring at Lance, an amused expression on his face, and he bookmarked the page of the book he’d been reading before Lance’s arrival and stretched out an arm on the pillows behind him, turning to give him his full attention.

He looked confident. He looked mature.

Slowly, Lance sat up, figuring maybe this wasn’t exactly his place. He couldn’t intimidate this future Keith by flirting with him, huh?

“I’m guessing we’ve only been dating for a few months, then?” Keith guessed, his eyebrows raised.

“Um, yeah,” said Lance.

Keith hummed considerably, and then he rearranged himself a bit, the hand behind Lance’s head coming down to settle on his thigh, real high up. And Lance — so unlike him — went bright red. He sat up rim-rod straight and glanced away, trying to conceal his complexion.

“Man, I forgot how cocky you were back then,” Keith sighed, and Lance cleared his throat, quickly glancing back at Keith.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said primly, and Keith chuckled.

“That was before I realized how much you liked it when I was in charge,” Keith said simply, and Lance felt his eyebrows furrow.

“What?” he said, turning to look at Keith head on. He even managed to forget the hand on his thigh. “ _I_  like to be in charge,” he said, before he floundered a bit, face heating up. “Um. We are talking about sex, right?”

Keith laughed, and Lance joined in a bit nervously. What the hell was in store for his future? Sure, he definitely wouldn’t mind if Keith wanted to try being “in charge”, so to say, but there was no way Lance would like it that way more than he did now. And Keith had never even showed any interest in switching things around, so.

“Yeah, we’re talking about sex,” Keith promised. “And I’m not wrong. You _do_  like it.”

“Listen, mullet —”

Keith sat up, finally pulling his hand away from Lance’s thigh and letting him think a bit easier. He pulled his hair into a ponytail, raising an eyebrow at Lance as he did. Lance realized he’d cut himself off, distracted by Keith (which wasn’t a rare thing at all, to be honest).

“You were saying?”

Lance shook his head. “I was _saying_ , I’m a top! Not that I wouldn’t bottom for you, I’d do anything for you — forget I said that — but this is the way I like it and —”

Hair sufficiently up in its ponytail, Keith turned and swung a leg over Lance’s hip. Lance couldn’t help shutting up his time, his lips just stopped moving and his mouth went dry — even his brain stopped thinking, he was pretty sure.

“I’m telling you, you like to bottom,” Keith promised. He was sitting on Lance. He — for the first time ever — was acting all bold and forward in the bedroom. And God — maybe he was _right_. This was really turning Lance on. He couldn’t breathe properly and his heart was pounding out of control.

“Um,” Lance said intelligently. For some reason he didn’t know what to do with his hands. They were balled in the sheets beside him. Was he even allowed to touch Keith? This was Future Keith, after all.

And Keith was sitting on him. He was sitting on him, and one hand was pressing against Lance’s chest, and Lance was leaning backwards and collapsing into the pillows, feeling his cheeks go pink as he looked up at Keith. “Oh,” he said, because that’s all he could really manage, and also because it kind of encompassed everything he was feeling. Keith seemed to get it, his smirk just growing wider.

He pushed his hands up under Lance’s shirt, one hand smoothing over the skin there and making Lance’s stomach jump, and the other curling around his waistband, fingers disappearing under his jeans.

“Is this allowed?” Lance squeaked, as Keith’s thumb continued to brush against his skin. Lance couldn't help it — he was getting hard, and there was no way Keith couldn’t tell.

“Is what allowed?” Keith said, frowning now. He’d pushed Lance’s shirt all the way up his chest. The cold air of the room — Keith’s room was _always_  freezing, the heathen — had full accessibility to his skin, and goosebumps rose all along his stomach.

“You know,” Lance said vaguely. “ _This_.”

“This,” Keith repeated, nodding slightly. “Do you have a problem with it?”

“Well, no not really, but I —”

“Then we’re fine,” Keith said easily. “If _you’re_  fine with it, then so is present you. Future you, I guess. And I know /I’m/ fine with it, so…”

Lance breathed a great sigh of relief. “Awesome,” he said. “Cool cool cool. Awes — _ah_!”

Keith had pressed down on the bulge in his pants with the palm of his hand. He leaned forward then and caught Lance’s lips with his, moving them easily and expertly, unwinding Lance with the brush of his lips and the feel of his tongue. Lance didn’t even _notice_  when Keith unbuttoned his pants, didn’t even realize he was trying to get them off him until he patted the side of his butt as they were kissing. Lance automatically lifted up and then Keith was tugging them off, Lance’s face flaring red as he realized what exactly had just happened.

They kept kissing. Lance didn’t even have a chance to try to encourage Keith to take his pants off or anything because he couldn’t _speak_. Not only because Keith’s tongue was in his mouth, _God_ , doing _that_ , but because he didn’t quite remember how to form words. Keith had immediately wrapped his hand around Lance, chuckling low in his throat when Lance’s breath hitched.

He moved his hand like an expert. Lance hadn’t thought there was a _wrong_  way to give a hand job but now he was certain he was doing it all wrong. Keith tugged on him lightly but firmly, coaxing and encouraging his imminent orgasm. Lance’s shirt was shucked under his armpits and his hands were on Keith, in his hair and bunched in his shirt. Suddenly, Keith deviated from Lance’s mouth, leaving him panting and gasping for breath, and he was kissing along the side of his jaw, further and further back and behind his ear and—

“K-Keith,” Lance stuttered, his back arching off the bed a bit as he tried to thrust into Keith’s hand.

“Mmm?”

“I don’t know what kind of stamina you guys have now, but unless you’re trying to make me come in approximated two seconds —”

“Oh yeah, shit,” Keith said immediately, and he let go of Lance, making him arch upward uselessly towards Keith’s body, so close to his climax. “Sorry,” Keith murmured immediately, kissing a trail down Lance’s throat now, over his chest. “I really wasn’t trying to edge you.”

“S’okay,” Lance panted, dazed and sweaty and kind of throbbing all over. Keith was still touching him, just in different places. His hands were climbing up and down Lance’s sides, big and warm and almost tickling him — it was like he was thinking about doing it, not quite decided yet. He helped Lance the rest of the way out of his shirt too, neither of them doing anything when it inevitably messed up his hair.

Keith let Lance cool down a bit. He kept kissing him, over his chest and stomach, back up his neck, back to his lips. He kept touching him too, hands roaming everywhere they could manage. Keith even flipped them over, but instead of feeling suddenly in charge, suddenly on top, Lance felt just as submissive and taken care of. Keith’s legs were spread and Lance was laying in between them. One of Keith’s hands was just resting on his butt, squeezing occasionally as if he wasn’t even thinking about it, and the other was running up and down Lance’s back, sometimes dropping down to the other side of his ass, both hands squeezing in unison.

It felt good — really good, actually — but Lance was majorly aware of the fact that Keith was still entirely clothed. Thankfully, bringing attention to that had Keith fixing the problem, and then they were laying together in all their warm, naked glory, and Keith was tilting Lance’s chin up, looking into his eyes.

“You want to go further?” he asked, and a part of Lance wanted to prove something to Keith, wanted to flip him over and fuck him good and remind him how much he was supposed to like it, but a bigger part of Lance just wanted it to happen. He wanted Keith to keep putting his expert hands all over him, to make him feel as good as possible. And if he really liked this in the future, there must’ve been some damn good reason why.

“Yeah,” Lance said, nodding, and Keith reached over beside his bed, hitting a panel on his wall where a drawer popped open and _wow that’s new_. “Woah,” Lance said. “Future secret drawer.”

Keith laughed as he pulled a jar from the drawer. His eyes were lit up with the laugh and he grinned up at Lance. “You’re cute,” he sighed. “I miss you.”

“How long has future me been gone?” Lance asked, and Keith leaned forward and kissed his shoulder as he opened the tub behind his back.

“Almost a week,” Keith said. “You call every night, but I can’t wait for you to get back.”

“Oh my God, that’s so cute,” Lance said. “ _We’re_  so cute. I call you every night! You miss me!” He sighed happily, collapsing against Keith’s chest, which was probably a good thing because he most likely would’ve collapsed anyway. Keith’s fingers had taken to circling the sensitive skin of his entrance, making Lance tense where he was laying.

“Um — just, you should know, I’ve never done this before, so…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make it good,” Keith promised, and Lance nodded. He was still laying between Keith’s legs — one of his legs hiked up, actually, spreading him open — with his face tucked into Keith’s neck as one of Keith’s arms wrapped around his waist, the other pressing slowly into him.

Lance held his breath, tensing against Keith.

“Relax,” Keith murmured. The hand on Lance’s back rubbed up and down, and Lance did so, breathing out and melting against Keith’s chest. It really didn’t feel that bad. It was a bit foreign and uncomfortable at first, but Keith was slow and careful, and it didn’t so much hurt as feel _different_. Not bad different, either.

Still, it not being bad wasn’t the same as it being great, and Lance couldn’t see what the big deal was all about. Keith had two fingers up his ass and Lance was clinging to the older man, waiting for it to get good. He couldn’t even tell if Keith had touched his prostate yet. He knew Keith — his Keith, past Keith — went wild whenever Lance touched it, and so Lance was intimately familiar with where it was located in Keith. All he had to do was crook his fingers a bit to the left and—

“Ohmygod,” Lance gasped, his entire body tensing as he clamped down around Keith’s fingers, currently pressed against something that was making his body _sing_. Keith chuckled in his ear and pulled his fingers out for a moment, making Lance relax back against him, panting. And then he was pressing back in, with a third finger this time, and he pressed right back against that spot, and Lance was dying.

“Fuck, Keith, fuck,” Lance panted, unconsciously bucking backwards against Keith’s hand.

“What’s that, Lance?” Keith said innocently. “I couldn’t hear you over the sound of you loving this.” God, when’d he get so cocky? What had Lance _done_  to him over the years?!

“Shut up, you bastard,” Lance groaned, shuddering against him and gasping into his neck. “ _Fuck_.”

Keith decided to show mercy on Lance. He carefully pulled his fingers out of him, making him sag into his body, and then Keith was flipping them over again. Lance’s head was barely even on the pillow, and his legs were on either side of Keith’s waist, Keith holding his legs at the knees from where he sat in between them.

“You ready?” he asked, reaching forward with one hand to stroke Lance, making his eyes flutter shut and his hips thrust upward. He could barely concentrate, but he managed to nod, huffing a much needed breath.

With this confirmation, Keith lined himself up. Lance stayed carefully still, suddenly nervous. After all, he’d never done this before. And Keith’s cock was quite a bit bigger than his fingers. And sure, Lance had seen his own dick disappear into Keith on many occasions, but he’d never really understood _how_  it didn’t split him right open and make him cry out in pain.

“Relax,” Keith advised. He rubbed the outside of Lance’s thigh and Lance forced himself to relax, to stop tensing. Still lined up, Keith then started to push in, grabbing Lance’s cock when he started to hiss in pain.

It definitely hurt — it was a stretch, one that Lance’s body certainly wasn’t used to making — but it wasn’t exactly a _bad_  hurt, if that made any sense. Kind of like pain with pleasure on the horizon. Plus, there was the whole distraction of Keith stroking him, which made it harder to concentrate on the pain. Lance remained relaxed, stayed still and calm as Keith continued to push into him slowly, stroking him and rubbing his thigh and doing everything he could to make it good.

“You’re so tight,” Keith groaned, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. He bottomed out, then, hips pressed flush against Lance’s ass — he felt so _full_.

For a moment, Keith stayed still, letting Lance adjust, and then he was moving again, after raising his eyebrows and getting a nod from Lance. He pulled out slowly, pushing in just a bit faster, and repeated it. He shifted around as he did this, changing his angle just the slightest bit, and then—

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Lance cried out, clenching hard around Keith, who groaned. Lance yanked Keith’s hand away from his dick, afraid he’d make him come too early, and he just held onto it, their fingers intertwined as Keith continued to fuck into that same spot, making Lance see stars with every thrust.

Keith ended up using Lance’s flexibility against him. He hefted one of his legs until it was rested on Keith’s shoulder, and Lance was so _open_ , so vulnerable and on display and _God_ , that was fucking hot, okay? He moaned, squeezing Keith’s hand harder and arching his head back, trying to breathe the oxygen he was no longer certain even existed.

And then his mouth betrayed him. “Harder,” he said, and he opened his eyes in time to see Keith’s smirk.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he said.

Keith pounded into him, after that. No reserves, nothing held back — just hard and great and world-rocking. He was still angled perfectly, even with their recent change in position, and Lance’s entire body was shuddering with how close he was to tipping over the edge. He was panting, chest rising and falling quickly under a sheen of sweat as he tried to hold on, wanting it to happen at the same time as Keith.

“You holding back for me?” Keith asked, smiling knowingly, and Lance groaned.

“Can’t banter,” he gasped, throwing his head back once more with a moan. “Concentrating.”

Keith sped up just a bit more, chasing his own orgasm, and at the last moment he reached forward and took Lance in hand, stroking him just twice before Lance was coming with a cry, clenching around Keith and twitching and shaking all over, hot and sensitive everywhere. Keith was coming too, inside him, moaning low in his throat, his head pressed against Lance’s leg still flung over his shoulder, mouth absentmindedly pressing kisses to Lance’s calf.

Then they were panting, coming down from it and calming down too, turning soft and tired and melting against each other. Keith eased Lance’s leg down and carefully pulled out of him, only to climb back up the bed beside Lance to cuddle.

“I call little spoon,” he said, slotting himself against Lance, and Lance chuckled, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him closer. It was good to know some things never changed, at least.

—

Lance woke up after a wonderful night’s sleep. Mid-day’s sleep? All he knew was that he’d cuddled a generous amount and was now starving. He kissed Future Keith on the forehead before standing up, eyes widening as his ass was revealed to be very sore, making him wince.

He pulled on his boxers and a t-shirt, shuffling towards the door with his stomach growling.

It slid open, revealing Future Pidge.

“Hi, Pidge,” said Lance. Pidge rolled her eyes and yanked him out of the room, the doors sliding back shut behind him.

“You need to go back to your time,” she said, and Lance nodded.

“Yeah, you really fucked up, didn’t you?”

“Shut up.”

She pointed something at him that looked alarmingly like a gun, and Lance said, “Wait!” Pidge raised an eyebrow.

“Um. Tell Keith thank you, for me? And that I love him?”

“Gross,” Pidge said. “But fine.” And then she raised the alarming-gun-look-alike once more and shot Lance.

Lance groaned, rubbing his head and opening his eyes, seeing Pidge standing before him.

“What the hell?” he said, looking around. “What happened?” He glanced to the ground, seeing his goo-vention on the floor. “Aw man! Pidge! You made me drop my goo-vention!”

“Stop _calling them_  that,” Pidge groaned, and then she squinted at him. “Is that really all you remember?”

Lance blinked. “Um. Yeah? I’m gonna have to go get another one.” He spun around to march away only to immediately groan, his ass… sore? “Ow,” he said, and he starting walking with shuffling steps instead. “You messed me up, Pidge,” he called over his shoulder, glaring at her. She just shrugged, only looking mildly guilty.

“You were gone for a second and now you’re back. It was like a glitch.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lance huffed. “I didn’t go anywhere.”

With that, he shuffled all the way back to the kitchen for another goo lolly pop, wondering why he was so sore all over — and… where were his pants?


End file.
